I, Uh …Like…Your Skirt
by someonesgurl
Summary: AU. Draco caught sight of a boy, one he’d never seen at Hogwarts, in a tattered pink lace skirt. It convinced him that this year would be unlike any other. DMHP. Semidark! Harry.
1. Meeting the Enigma Known as James Black

I, Uh …Like…Your Skirt  
Chapter 1: Meeting the Enigma Known as James Black

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**Disclaimer:** I do not own or claim to own Harry Potter. I'm poor, so don't sue. I can only dream that anyone in the HP universe is gay. This story is totally fictional, and my idea. But it was inspired by the line, from Draco to Harry… "Well Potter its lovely to see you again, I uh...like...your skirt." It is from the story "A Walk Into Hell" by Sabrith Alastar. She granted me permission to use the line.

**Warnings:** This story will have slash in it. Those couples will include Harry/Draco and Siri/Undecided, either Remy or Sev or both. There will also be some Het tossed in there, because I have to go with the belief that not all the characters can be gay, as much as I may enjoy writing it.

**Summary:** AU. Draco caught sight of a boy, one he'd never seen at Hogwarts, in a tattered pink lace skirt. It convinced him that this year would be unlike any others. DM/HP. Semi-dark! Harry.

**Final Note**: Yes, I do realize that I should be writing on "When It All Goes Wrong Again" but that story is at the point at which I can end it or make it go longer, and I'm not yet ready to let it go, so I'm procrastinating. I can't help it! It grew up so fast and is one of the most popular stories I've ever written. I will finish it soon. And we all know what 'soon' is for me.

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Draco Malfoy watched as an unfamiliar form walked through the barrier, pushing his trunk and owl. The dark haired boy looked like many other boys Draco had seen at boarding school except he was wearing a tattered pink lace skirt and combat boots.

The boy stopped and turned as someone walked up behind him, the shirt flaring. His face lit up and he pulled the other person into a tight hug.

Draco felt his father's cane tapping his back lightly, reminding him to walk. Taking one more look at the boy and his companion, he saw that their foreheads were touching and each had a hand behind the other's neck. Frowning to himself, he climbed onto the train after giving his father a formal nod.

After pulling a book from his trunk, Draco to a seat, finally relaxing. He started to read and let his mind wonder. He was surprised a few moment later to hear the compartment door open and see the dark haired boy enter.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

Draco shook his head no, indicating to the empty seat opposite him with the hand holding his book. He marked the spot he was reading and introduced himself, "Draco Malfoy."

The boy smiled shyly, "James Black. Nice to meet you."

"Same to you," Draco's eyes glanced down at the skirt again, "I, uh …like…your skirt."

James smiled brightly, letting bits of the material run through his fingers, "Thanks."

Draco was unsure as to what to say. The boy was really quiet while his form was anything but. Broad shoulders and chest was probably what kept or would keep the boy from being insulted for wearing a skirt, he tore his gaze away to keep it from being noticed, "What year are you in?"

"Sixth and you?" James replied, smiling. It made Draco wonder weather the boy enjoyed his gaze.

"The same. Do you know what house you'll be in?"

"My dad was in Gryffindor But he's convinced I'll be in Slytherin," James stated.

"What about your mother?"

"Well, I'm actually adopted. My mother and father both died when I was really young. They also were in Gryffindor…" James's voice trailed off.

"I'm in Slytherin," Draco stated when he couldn't think of anything to say after a few moments of silence.

"Now I really hope I get into Slytherin," James declared, before turning away quickly, a blush gracing his face.

"Who was the man you were with on the platform?" Draco questioned, and then added, "If you don't mind me asking…"

"That was my dad. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to make it to see me off. I was lost somewhat and getting antsy about going, he was trying to clam me down."

Draco wondered if James had seen him watching them. He listened to the other boy ramble on, but spoke up when he has a question, "Where did you go to school before?"

"Salem Institute for Witches and Wizards, in America," he replied.

"You don't sound American," Draco said, stating the obvious.

James smiled, "I wasn't born in America, I'm British. We just lived there. It was easier on my dad that way."

"Why did you move back then?" Draco inquired.

"We were…coerced into it. The headmaster used something from years ago against us. We had no choice but to agree. He's very manipulative."

Draco's mouth fell open slightly, "Wow, you actually think that? You'll be a Slytherin for sure."

"Why do you say that?" James asked, he had started twisting pieces of the material in a nervous manner.

"Almost every house thinks that Dumbledore is wonderful, except Slytherin. Many of us had that feeling passed down to us by our parents, but even more of us have made that assumption on our own," Draco explained. He watched as James kept messing with the material of the skirt. When the dark-haired boy didn't stop, Draco grabbed his hands, "Don't worry so much. You'll do fine, no matter what house you are in, I'm sure of it."

James's grin was almost blinding and he squeezed Draco's hands in response. When the blonde boy went to let got, he kept hold of one hand.

Draco looked up into the green eyes, they had a determined look. Moving to sit beside James, he let the other boy keep a hold on his hand and rubbed comforting circles with his thumb.

Silence reigned; James had pulled his legs up onto the seat, and, from what Draco could tell, was studying the hand in his. Draco had turned back to his book, leaving the raven haired boy alone for a bit.

"Draco?"

Marking his page again he replied "Yeah, James?"

"Will you still be my friend? I mean even if I'm in…say, Gryffindor?"

"Of course," Draco glanced at his watch, "We need to get changed into our robes, and you need into your uniform."

"It was part of the agreement on coming back that I could still wear what ever clothes I wanted," James sighed sadly, running his fingers through the material almost lovingly, "But I guess I should really put on some pants."

"Only if you want to, don't do it if you don't."

James looked up, "I think I'm going to wear pants, then wear this later in the year."

"Good idea," Draco replied, watching as the other boy pulled his trunk out from under the seat, and pull out a pair of dress pants and a white dress shirt. He could tell that they were tailored.

"I've got tons of these," James stated, pulling the skirt off and the pants on. He pulled the shirt off slowly, almost teasingly.

Draco watched transfixed as a tanned chest was exposed for his wanting eyes. He was reminded of Apollo. When James had his shirt off and started pulling on the new one, Draco pulled his own robe on, "So you were able to wear whatever you wanted in that other school?"

"Yes, it was more like a public school rather than a boarding school."

"Do you miss being there?"

"Sometimes, like when I think about my friends, and the fact that I got less looks for my clothes."

"I can see why you'd like that better," Draco replied, sitting down one again, watching as James sat down also, once again beside the blonde boy.

Draco turned, once again, to his book. He didn't let his surprise show when James took his hand once again. It assured him that it was going to be a very interesting year.

When the carriage the two sixth year boys rode in arrived at the castle, Draco was almost saddened to let James go with Professor McGonagall. He watched as the two walked towards a room that connected to the Great Hall which he was sure James would be asked to wait in until time for his sorting. He smiled at the dark haired boy when he glanced back, then headed into the Hall himself.

"Draco! Where were you all train ride?" the overly loud voice of his friend, Blaise Zanbini, cut through the crowd.

"No where, just in a different compartment."

"We looked for you for a while, almost every compartment. Except this one that had a really advanced locking charm on it," Pansy Parkinson stated, huffing.

Draco didn't reply, just turned towards the sorting. He clapped politely when anyone was sorted into Slytherin.

Soon the sorting was over and Headmaster Dumbledore stood, "We've got a new student from America. Mr. Black please come forward to be sorted."

Draco watched, with rest of the school, as James walked confidently to the stool. The raven haired boy sat gracefully and allowed the deputy headmistress to place the hat on his head.

"Who is that?" one of his housemates whispered.

Draco didn't answer. He watched as James sat on the stool, seeming to have a conversation with the hat. The following ten minutes proved to be the longest in the blonde's life.

"Slytherin!" the hat cried out. James pulled it off his head and handed it to the somewhat shocked professor. The other boy didn't take any noticed as he walked to the table, and where Draco was sitting.

Looking at the head table, Draco was surprised to see mildly shocked looks on the Headmaster and Potions Master's faces. Ignoring his curiosity at their reactions, he turned to the person on his right, a third year, and glared at the small girl until she moved as far down as she could. It was conveniently enough room for James to sit in, which he did when he arrived at the table.

"My dad's going to be right pissed at my, I imagine. The howler will arrive and I'll be doomed because he'll put some kind of curse on it. I'll be red and gold for rest of the term," James muttered to Draco as Dumbledore finished his customary start of the term speech.

The sixth year Slytherins turned towards Draco, questions apparent in their eyes. Pansy spoke up first, "Draco, why don't you introduce us to your friend?"

"Why, Pansy, I was just about to," Draco replied with sarcasm in his voice, "Everyone this is James Black. He moved here from American, where they allow the boys to wear skirts, and who knows what they allow the girls to wear."

Many of the house members looked shocked at Draco's statement, and looked to James for conformation. They received none, for the other boy was eating a piece of Shepard's Pie.

Draco shrugged at his friends' looks, moving to get something to eat. He noticed that the people around him followed his lead. Soon the Slytherin table was eating in silence.

After the feast had ended, Draco led James to the dorms, stating random facts about some of the paintings, statues, and other objects within the halls.

Draco watched as James fell ungracefully into a chair. To him it looked as if the other boy had lost all the bones in his body, "I'm getting back pains from just looking at you sitting like that."

James grinned up at him before moving into a sitting position. He watched as Draco sat in the armchair across from his elegantly, demonstrating aristocrat upbringing. James muttered, "Showoff," before taking an interest in his nails.

Draco looked up as the common room entrance opened, allowing the Head of House entrance. He didn't show any emotion as his godfather walked to where he was sitting, "Can I help you professor?" he asked.

"Mr. Black," Professor Snape stated, "The Headmaster has things he wished to discuss with you."

"I'm terribly tired right now Professor," James stated, hiding a fake yawn behind his hand, "I believe I will retire for the night."

"Mr. Black! Do not make me resort to an option neither of us wish for me to use!" The Potions Master was getting angry.

James looked at him, a defiant glint in his eyes, "Sir, don't make ME resort to an option NO ONE wishes for me to."

Draco watched the interaction between the two with interest, and followed James' retreating back with his eyes. He watched the boy go towards the male rooms. He turned back to his godfather, "Would you like for me to-"

Professor Snape cut him off, "The Headmaster will deal with him tomorrow." He stormed back out of the room and Draco headed in the direction of James.

Walking into the dorm, he wasn't expecting to be greeted with the sight of a tanned and tattooed but scarred back. The brilliant colors that surrounded the large jagged scar amazed Draco. The tattoo of an angel with brilliant jade eyes and flaming red hair looked over a town below it, with a sword in hand. It moved, a wing twitching or a hand tightening along the hilt of the sword. He had the urge to touch it, but pulled his hand back quickly when the angel turned its head toward him. He moved to his own bed, saying to James, "Nice tattoo."

The other boy looked up and smiled brightly, "Thanks. My dad let me get it when I was fifteen, for my birthday."

Draco thought back to what his own father had gotten him for his fifteenth birthday. It was a broom, the fastest model out. But seeing the tattoo on James' back, and the smile he had when talking about his dad, made Draco think that it wasn't enough.

Draco turned to get dressed, letting silence fall over him and his companion. Soon the other members of their year entered, laughing to themselves.

Draco watched from the corner of his eye as Blaise started at the tattoo, "It's brilliant!"

James, seeming to know exactly what he was talking about, muttered a quick, "Thanks" before sitting on his bed with his back along the headboard.

Draco wondered what made the other boy go quiet, but didn't ask. He climbed into his own bed, but unlike James, he did lay down.

"James," Blaise called out from on top of his trunk, "Are you really able to wear skirts in America?"

James laughed loudly, "Yes. I do on occasion. I did today."

"Really?" came the shocked voice of Theodore Nott.

"Why would he lie?" Draco drawled from his position on his bed. He could feel James' eye on him, and had no doubt that the other boy had a smile on his face, "It was a very flattering although tattered pink lace skirt."

"You weren't wearing robes," Greg Goyle said. Vincent Crabbe nodded his head in agreement.

"I find robes restricting. I mean, say you are running from a foe, and your robe gets tangled in your legs, you may trip and then you'd be caught," James replied.

Draco realized that the other boy wasn't going to mention anything that had to do with being forced into coming to Hogwarts.

They stayed up talking the majority of the night. When they finally decided to go to bed, Draco watched as James waited for everyone to fall asleep before getting out of his own bed.

"James, where are you going?" Draco asked in a hushed whisper.

"I can't sleep here," James replied, "There are no windows." His voice had a slightly panicked tone to it, as did his movements.

"Come here," Draco stated, leaving no room for an argument.

James walked to Draco's bed and stood there.

"Just lay down, I'm not going to do anything," Draco murmured, wishing to go to sleep.

James crawled under the covers and stiffened slightly when Draco put his arms around him. He was soon able to relax, as he started to hear the even beating of the blonde heart.

Draco was grateful when his new friend finally fell asleep. He thought about how James acted and the difference between what he seemed like and what he was truly like. And as the dark haired boy turned in his arms and buried his head into his chest, he became aware that it was going to be an unusual year.


	2. Of Headmasters and Anger

**I, Uh …Like…Your Skirt  
**Chapter 2: Of Headmasters and Anger

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I do not own or claim to own Harry Potter. I'm poor, so don't sue. I can only dream that anyone in the HP universe is gay. This story is totally fictional, and my idea. But it was inspired by the line, from Draco to Harry… "Well Potter its lovely to see you again, I uh...like...your skirt." It is from the story "A Walk Into Hell" by Sabrith Alastar. She granted me permission to use the line.

**Warnings**: This story will have slash in it. Those couples will include Harry/Draco and Siri/Undecided, either Remy or Sev or both. There will also be some Het tossed in there, because I have to go with the belief that not all the characters can be gay, as much as I may enjoy writing it.

**Summary**: AU. Draco caught sight of a boy, one he'd never seen at Hogwarts, in a tattered pink lace skirt. It convinced him that this year would be unlike any other. DM/HP. Semi-dark! Harry.

**Final Note**: Well, I'm just having a good night for writing on stories. Please leave reviews, i need some encouragement. OH! And there's another chapter on 'Running With The Monster', so read that one as well.

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When Draco woke up the next morning he was shocked to find the black haired boy already gone from his bed and their dorm. He wondered where his new friend had gone off to so early in the day.

As he got ready for the day he thought back to the night before. James was thrashing about one moment and then silently crying the next. Draco had spent long minutes debating on what to do. He finally just wrapped his arms around the other boy and started whispering about his home, the Malfoy Manor, and its surrounding lands.

He could remember being relieved when the boy's breathing had evened out. He then contemplated his reaction for a few minutes before giving into the need for sleep.

Draco walked through the Slytherin common room and out the entrance, heading for the Great Hall. He assumed that James would be able to find his way there on his own, from where ever he was.

He sat down at the table taking a set between two of his classmates. The Slytherin table was almost full. He glanced around the hall with a seemingly uninterested gaze, but in actuality he was searching for the person that had been plaguing his thoughts since he woke that morning.

"Looking for your boyfriend?" Pansy sneered at him from across the table.

"Nope, he's not my boyfriend yet," Draco replied with a smirk.

Pansy looked shocked and Draco couldn't be bothered to apologize when he noticed a commotion at the three other tables. Every student had their attention turned towards the door, and were whispering excitedly with their neighbors. The Slytherins wore masks of indifference.

Draco couldn't decide if he was surprised or impressed that it was James who walked into the room. The boy had once again opted to forgo the robes and was wearing black pants with a matching, tight v-neck sweater.

The anger was radiating off of James in waves yet the only people who seemed to notice were in his own house. As he stalked towards the Slytherin table he thought about all the things that he would like to do to the Headmaster, and none of them would include a 'nice chat and tea'.

Before reaching the table he spotted Draco and started towards the blonde, knowing somehow that his presence would get rid of his anger. He didn't want to think about why that would help, but just wanted it to help before something bad happened.

A space was cleared without him having to say a word. He sat down quickly, grabbing an apple and starting to eat it. He could feel the questioning gaze of the other Houses' occupants. His shoulders tensed and he could feel his magic starting to gather.

Draco felt a change in the air around him and turned to find James tensed. He placed, what he hoped was, a calming hand, on his friends knee. He was shocked to feel a momentary flash of blind rage and then nothing.

James placed his hand over Draco's, intertwining their fingers and squeezing the pale hand. And Draco couldn't have been any more confused.

James walked through the halls quickly. He slipped behind a tapestry and down a narrow corridor. It was a secret passage that would take him to the third floor. Exiting through a different tapestry, he dusted the cobwebs off of his shirt and turned in the direction of his class.

"Mr. Black, just the young man I wanted to see."

"Headmaster," James replied, gritting his teeth, "I was just on my way to class."

"If you could accompany an old man to his office…" the statement was a command, not a suggestion or a question.

"Yes sir."

Once they reached the office the headmaster took a seat at his desk, motioning for James to sit in one of the empty chairs, "Would you like some tea, Ha-"

James cut him off, "Don't go against the terms of the agreement, Headmaster Dumbledore. I don't believe you'd like the consequences."

"You are a student here, _James_. You will abide by our rules. That includes listening to the professors," the elderly man stated, organizing several papers on his desk.

"I was getting to know my housemates. I do believe that it was far more important to meet the people I would be living with rather than having a chat with you and Professor Snape."

"Don't for a moment believe that you are in control here. You are a student and have yet to complete your training. I am your headmaster and you will treat me with the respect that position demands," gone was the twinkle in the old man's eyes. The light blue orbs had become navy with his anger.

James stood abruptly, knocking over his chair in the process, "No. You've got it wrong. You forced me to move here. You forced myself and my dad from a place we knew as home. You forced me into something I did not ask for nor want. I do not owe you respect. It is earned and you have yet to do something to earn it from me."

The headmaster was shocked into silence.

"I will attend classes and participate in Quidditch because I want to. This is something that I will live with because I have to, but I will not deal with you harassing me like you own me. You don't," James moved towards the door.

"Mr. Potter-"

James turned to face the headmaster once more, his hair flying. His voice was low and dangerous, "Dumbledore, I will say this only once more. Don't call me by that name. I was raised under the name James and I will be addressed as such. Harry Potter died with his parents and I was raised with my dad."

James exited the room calmly and with grace, shutting the door quietly behind him. He didn't look back once therefore missed the angry and shocked look on the headmaster's face.

Checking his watch, he knew that he had missed half of his Transfiguration class. He decided that he wouldn't bother with attending; instead he headed in the direction of the Slytherin Library.

Entering the secret room, he sighed, happy to see that it was empty. He moved to one of the tables, pulling a muggle pen and some notebook paper from his bag along with his Transfiguration book.

He opened the book to the chapter he was sure they would be covering today and read it. He had covered this already at his school in America but still felt the need to revise and take notes so that he would be able to write a paper if needed.

Soon the lunch bell sounded and he packed his supplies back into his bag and left, following the crowd of hungry, excited students.

"James! Where were you during Trans?" a voice behind him called out. He turned to see Blaise making his way through the crowd, "McGonagall almost had a fit when she got to your name on the roster and you weren't in the room."

"The headmaster wanted a chat and whom am I to keep from it?"

"It would be 'who am I'," Draco stated when he seemingly popped out of nowhere.

"Don't do stuff like that Draco! It's creepy," Blaise stated, looking anxious at Draco's sudden appearance.

"I'll do whatever I feel like," Draco replied, his mouth set in a pout.

James smiled at his friend, grasping the blonde's hand, "So how much fun did I miss in Trans?"

"Some Ravenclaw wasn't able to change her tea kettle back into a bird completely. So there was a tea kettle with feathers and a beak. It was great; the girl's face matched the Gryffindor Quidditch robes." Blaise smiled at the memory.

Draco turned his attention to the dark-haired boy, taking in the other's appearance. The boy's aura literally vibrated with power. But the colors he could see in it confused him, there was a rainbow of pastels with a brown and gray overlay. Yet the aura described James so well.

The pastels showed James's sensitivity, the brown described the boy's insecurity and the gray told of the guardedness. And looking at it closer, Draco would swear there was some gold.

Yes, James Black was definitely something different.

"Draco?" came the soft voice of the boy in question, "Do you want to go to the lake for a walk with me?"

Draco couldn't stop the smile that appeared on his face as he looked at James, "Sure."

The two boys walked along the edge of the lake. James spun around in circles at random times, and jumped from rock to rock.

Draco could see that they boy was calming down, relaxing. Some of the brown and gray seemed to melt away from the amazing aura, leaving only the pastel and gold.

"You're beautiful," he whispered to himself, but James's turned towards him as if he had heard, a smile and blush gracing the dark-haired boy's features.

James moved with grace, as he started jumping from rock to rock. He never lost his balance or seemed to slip on the moss that covered the rocks. He smiled brightly every time he remembered that Draco was watching him.

Draco could remember something his father told him when he was getting ready to travel to Hogwarts for the first time. His father had told him that when he met the person he was destined to spend his life with, he would know. And Draco knew, watching James as he moved, he knew.

"We should be going to get something to eat," Draco murmured into James's ear. The two had retreated to the shade of one of the many trees around the lake. James had climbed into Draco's lap, and awkwardly rested his head against the other boy's chest.

"I suppose you are right. And we have potions next," James replied with a sigh. He moved off of Draco's lap and offered the other boy a hand up.

Draco placed his hand in James's and wasn't surprised when their fingers were interlaced. They walked back to the looming castle slowly and Draco watched as the dirty colors made their way into James's aura once more.

The two made a quick stop at the kitchens before hurrying to the Potions classroom. Snape didn't acknowledge them as they walked in tardy.

James seemed to complement Draco's technique when making potions. The two worked flawlessly together. James could feel the professor's eyes on them, he knew the man was watching but didn't feel anxious.

Draco was surprised as he watched James work on the potion. The boy moved quickly with precise cuts and measurements. He could tell the other boy was confident in his ability to make the potion.

Soon the class was winding down and the professor walked to each table, criticizing or handing out praise as he deemed necessary. When he reached their table, Draco felt himself tense. He always hated this part, even though he knew he had the best potion in the entire class.

"Wonderful potion Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Black. Keep up the good work."

Once class was dismissed, the two left the room, leading towards the dorms, ready for the free hour they had. Draco allowed himself to plop down on the couch and wasn't the least bit surprised when James lay down, resting his head on the blonde's pant-clad thigh.

He moved his hand to run his fingers through the dark-silky locks, twisting strands around his long fingers. James sighed contently, and it was all the encouragement that Draco needed to continue his ministrations.

The common room started filling as their dorm-mates caught up with them. Draco watched as some of his friends gave him a shocked look before covering it up quickly. He knew that he'd had to write his father soon about what was going on.

Draco moved his fingers to James's face, letting his fingers ghost over the other boy's skin. He watched as the boy turned so he was facing upward. Draco had an unobstructed view of expressive eyes. He stared into those eyes for long moments, gathering the courage to say what he had to.

Draco felt rather than saw James lift his arm and wrap a hand around his neck, pulling him down into a hesitant kiss.

Pulling away from the kiss, Draco moved his fingers to trace James's features. He let his pale fingers trail over the elegant eyebrows and nose, ghosting over fluttering eyelids and pressing softly against warm lips.

"My dad always said that I'd know when I met my one. He suspected that they'd be at Hogwarts' but they weren't here. I hadn't been able to find them," Draco sighed happily when James intertwined their fingers, "But when I saw you on the platform, I knew you were it. You were my one."

Draco watched as James turned onto his side and buried his face into his stomach. The laying boy tried to curl himself around Draco, wanting the ache in his chest to subside.

James took a deep breath, smelling the scent that was completely Draco. He could feel the ache in his chest again. It was because he hadn't told Draco how he felt yet.

The comforting hand on his back reminded him that the blonde would wait forever. James knew in his heart the same fact. Taking another deep breath he turned to face the waiting blonde once more.

"I was afraid that you wouldn't believe me when I told you that you were my one," James whispered, "I was afraid that you're family would have been one of those that stopped believing in it."

Draco felt his heart soar. He leaned down and kissed James softly on the lips, before pulling away and moving to stand up, "I've got to write father and mother. They'll be happy for me."

"Okay. I'm going to go for a walk," James replied. Draco nodded, kissing him one last time before walking towards the dorm. James headed in the opposite direction, towards an empty classroom on the third floor.

After locking and sealing the doors to the empty classroom, James got to work. He moved all the desks against the wall, stacking them to leave the greatest amount of room. He pulled a trunk out of his pocket and unshrunk it.

Opening one of the compartments he wasn't surprised when a figure climbed out. The man dusted off his robes, scowling at James.

"Took you long enough to let me out! Were you ever going to make time to train?"

"It's only been one day. And I found my one today. So I don't know how that's going to affect my training," James replied.

"We're going to go at the same pace as we always have. You are going to be ready to defeat Tom by the next meeting. Even if I have to beat it into you."

"As opposed to the love that you've used to train me all these years? Dad knows, you know. He knows that you've got me doing the Unforgiveables with someone else's wand. He's not stupid."

"If you can control them with someone else's wand, you can easily control them with your own. Besides you are the one that wanted to learn them. I said that we should wait until your seventeenth birthday. But no, you had to have it your way."

"I will decide what I need to know and when I want to learn it. You are forgetting who was able to help you breathe again. You are forgetting who has control over the spell that keeps your throat from collapsing."

"I am sorry," the man said, bowing slightly.

"I know you are. We need to train now. I want to know the best way to torture someone," James stated, "Without magic."


	3. Applying Skills of Torture

**I, Uh …Like…Your Skirt**  
Chapter 3: Applying Skills of Torture In More Ways Than One

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I do not own or claim to own Harry Potter. I'm poor, so don't sue. I can only dream that anyone in the HP universe is gay. This story is totally fictional, and my idea. But it was inspired by the line, from Draco to Harry… "Well Potter its lovely to see you again, I uh...like...your skirt." It is from the story "A Walk Into Hell" by Sabrith Alastar. She granted me permission to use the line.

**Warnings**: Slash story. Draco/James(Harry). Siri/Undecided. This chapter has a **torture scene** at the very beginning. It's nothing graphic, but there is blood and a broken bone.

**Summary**: AU. Draco caught sight of a boy, one he'd never seen at Hogwarts, in a tattered pink lace skirt. It convinced him that this year would be unlike any other. DM/HP. Semi-dark! Harry.

**Final Note**: Yay for the third chapter coming out way sooner than the second did. Don't get used to it, my lovely readers, cause I'm on vacation due to snow. I will be going back to school soon.

* * *

After several long hours of training, James descended into a compartment in the truck. He lit a few torches in the small area before moving to a locked door.

He pulled the key from it's hiding spot and entered the room on the other side of the door, watching the figure on the other side of the room, "How are you this evening?" he asked, his voice was smooth and had an underlying feel of power to it.

The figure on the cot didn't move. James could barely hear the man breathing. He watched the obviously scared figure for a few moments, smirking bitterly to himself.

As he took a step towards the cot, the man moved so his back was pressed completely against the wall, as though he was trying to blend in, trying to hide.

"I asked you, how are you this evening. I fully expect to be answered," James stated calmly.

"I-I don't know anything else! Pl-Please let me go!" the figure squeaked, holding his hands in front of him, "I didn't d-do anything I sw-swear."

"You did plenty," James replied. His hair moved as if blown by an invisible force, his eyes gleamed in the light from the torches.

The man on the cot went quiet once more. He knew that the dark-haired boy was angry and since he was here, it only meant pain for him.

"I think we should try something new tonight. I won't have to use a wand for it," James stated, his mind running over the long list of ways to torture someone without a wand. He stopped once he came up with a suitable one for how he was feeling.

He wanted to see some blood.

Using some wandless magic, James conjured a chair in the middle of the room. He grabbed the man's arm and threw him into the chair, using a charm to keep him there.

He took a breath before grabbing the man's chubby arm, his fingers tightening on the fragile bones until he heard a satisfying crunch. The man in front of him screamed in pain.

James sighed as though it was a chore and put up a silencing charm when the screams started to annoy him. He then pulled a small knife out of his boot, grinning viciously as the blade of it reflected the moonlight.

Moving around the man, he dragged the end of the blade along slim shoulders and chubby arms, leaving behind a trail of red scratches in his wake, drawing blood where he felt like it.

"What should I do what ever should I do?" James smirked, tapping the tip of the blade against his lips thoughtfully, "I know what I should do."

He grasped the hand of the broken wrist, pushing the blade under the man's fingernail. The man's mouth opened in a silent scream.

James felt a slight restriction in his chest as he pushed the knife under the next few fingernails of his prisoner. The man's mouth opened in a scream the entire time, but the room remained silent due.

Pulling the knife back and grasping the bleeding finger tightly, he caught the man's gaze, "This is just a taste of what I'm going to do with you. This is just something I learnt today; think of what I'll be doing to you in a week."

He then turned and walked away from the man. Closing the door behind him before locking and hiding the key, he sent a wave of wandless magic through the door, releasing the man from the chair.

Climbing up some stairs and out of the trunk, he hurriedly closed the lid and locked the compartment.

The man stood from where he had been sitting, and bowed his head slightly to James, "How did it go?"

"I'm sure you were watching everything on that magical ball of yours. I need to learn more tomorrow. I need to get the information out of him by next week," James answered. He held the knife out in front of him, studying the blood that was dripping off it before wiping it off on the side of his pants.

"You could have used a cloth. Now you'll have to get rid of those pants," the elder man said exasperation evident in his voice.

James wasn't paying attention to him though. His attention was on the blood that was running down his arm. He watched as the blood moved down his forearm slowly before lifting it to his mouth and licking it off. It was his own blood, but he didn't remember cutting himself.

"Must you do that?" the man muttered, angry now as he took the knife from the boy and murmured a cleaning charm to clean the boy's clothes and body.

"Yes. I must," James growled out as he looked at his hand and saw the cut; it was along the palm of his hand. He looked at it for several minutes before grabbing his wand and muttering a healing charm.

Catching the man's questioning gaze, he shook his head and unlocked another compartment on the truck, motioning for the man to get in, "I have to go meet with Draco."

Draco was walking through the Great Hall when he caught sight of James. He watched as the dark-haired mystery walked outside before following.

"James," he called out to the other boy. He watched as a smile overtook James's face and the other boy waited patiently for him.

"I don't want to go to dinner yet. So I was just going to go and lay on a Quidditch Pitch," James explained, wrapping his fingers around Draco's when the other got close to him.

"Brill idea," Draco replied, allowing himself to be lead to the empty Pitch.

When they arrived, James fell to the ground, turning to look up at the sky. Draco looked down at the other boy for a few seconds before James finally asked, "What?"

Draco looked down at the seemingly innocent boy, amusement evident in his eyes, "Only you could expect a Malfoy to do something as plebian as lay on the ground without a blanket or anything of the sort."

"Then conjure up a blanket," came James's simple solution.

"But you were the one who brought me on this outing. So you should conjure me up one," Draco replied.

James allowed himself to be distracted by the blonde's legs. He moved his hand under the dress pants to wrap around the boy's ankle, rubbing along the skin, "But you are the one who wants a blanket. I'm perfectly fine with being plebian."

Draco gave a pretend sigh of annoyance before moving away from James's distracting hands and conjuring a blanket. He watched as James rolled onto it, "You just didn't want to conjure a blanket did you?"

"Oh, I would have been willing to stay on the ground, but since you conjured up such a big blanket, I figured that you'd be okay with sharing."

Draco settled down on the blanket next to James, lying down with his arms folded under his head and staring at the darkening sky. He lay still as James softly put his head on his chest, nimble fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt.

James moved until he was curled into a ball, his knees no doubt poking into Draco's hip. He just kept his head on the blonde's chest listening to the steady heartbeat and allowing himself to relax.

He listened to the sounds that were drifting around them. In the distance he could hear chatter from the students who were having dinner, closer were noises from the forest.

The two boys lay in silence for many long moments, until they were interrupted by some Gryffindors. Draco recognized the group by their voices long before the group was on the Pitch, "James," he muttered, not wanting to move but not wanting to face the group, "There's some Gryffindors heading this way."

"Don't care," James replied. He moved his hand down Draco's chest, drawing lazy infinity figures around the buttons.

"Just know that they don't like me very much," the blonde sighed.

James nodded his head, never taking his attention away from the designs his own fingers were drawing. He could tell the moment that the Gryffindors caught sight of him and Draco, they had stopped talking.

James didn't stop himself as his hand moved away from the buttons on Draco's shirt. He moved his fingers down to the blonde's hip and threaded them through the belt-loop, holding tightly and sighing.

Draco gasped when James's fingers touched the skin above the waistband of his pants. He held his breath for a few seconds before the other boy moved his hand away slightly, letting the dress-shirt fall back into place.

Moving one arm from under his head, he draped it along the dark-haired boy's waist, laying his hand flat on the other boy's stomach. He could feel tight muscles rippling under his hand as James's chest rose and dropped. His eyes closed and tried to ignore the noises that were now coming from the Gryffindors.

"Oy! Malfoy, you have to leave the Pitch."

"You heard the man, James, we might as well head in for dinner," Draco stated, looking down at the dark head of hair.

James shook his head, his fingers tightening on Draco's hip, "I don't wanna go back in there yet."

The Gryffindors had made their way over to the couple. They were still a few feet away, but they had obviously heard James's statement. A red-haired boy spoke up, "We are about to play a football game. And we are going to use the Pitch, so you two need to get off it."

James looked up at the rude red head, "I'll get up when I'm well and ready. So you better just move along and leave us alone. There's plenty of room. I don't think that you'd been needing the whole Pitch anyways, there's only seven of you!"

"I don't know who you think you are but-"

James cut the boy off, "I don't care. I'm not moving." He settled his head back down on Draco's chest, listening to the other boy's heartbeat once more.

Draco glared at the youngest Weasley boy, "He's right, Weasley, there's plenty of room on the Pitch without us having to move."

"What is he? Your Junior Death Eater Bride?" Weasley snapped. He took in the sight of James's hand on Draco's hip, "I never realized that you were a pounce Malfoy."

"Shut it Ron," came the angry voice from behind the red-head.

James turned to see two of the Gryffindor boys glaring at the red-head; one had his arm around the other's waist in a possessive fashion. James turned his attention back to Draco, "Let's go inside. I'm getting kind of hungry."

"Sure," Draco replied. He watched at James got up from the blanket, stretching his arms high above his head. The tanned boy's shirt moved upward, exposing a scar covered stomach.

"You want some help up?" James asked, holding his hand out to the blonde boy after her finished stretching.

Draco took the boy's hand and allowed himself to be pulled from the ground. He found himself pulled against the other boy's chest, into a soft kiss, "Let's go before they wake-up from their stupor," he murmured against the soft lips that were touching his.

Walking into the Dinning Hall, the two boys saw that the evening post was just arriving. Three owls James recognized made their ways towards him. The smallest owl barreled into his stomach with a soft thud, and James pulled the letter off his leg, letting the small thing fly away quickly.

One of the other two owls was holding a well-known red-envelope, one that was easily recognized as a howler. Grabbing the other letter from the last owl, James slipped the two regular envelopes into his back pocket before facing the music of the red howler.

"James Sirius Black, I have half a mind to come to that fancy school of yours in Scotland or England or wherever it is and tan your hide! Not telling any of your friends that you were moving back to that horrid country until you were already gone! You're just lucky that your dad managed to talk some sense into me over the telephone. I was ready to pack up everything! You better be writing me the instant this howler is finished! I will be expecting to hear from you every week," the howler paused for a second, before continuing in a much calmer voice, "I hope that you made it to school easily and make many friends you little twerp."

James watched as the howler tore itself up before bursting into flame. He had a small smile on his face.

"Who was that?" Draco asked, as they made their way to the Slytherin table.

"A friend of mine's mom from America. She saw herself as my mum, because she watched me when I was younger," James replied. He sat down beside Draco and started loading his plate with food.

As they started eating, Draco felt a foot touching his leg. One glance at James told him who it was; the dark haired boy had a small smile on his face. He wasn't shocked when the foot soon wrapped around his leg, staying there for the rest of the meal.

After finishing their meal most of the Slytherin sixth years started back towards the dungeons, chatting along the way.

Settling into the common room, many of the students pulled out their homework and got started on it. James did the same, pulling his transfiguration book out. He leaned towards Draco, "Can I see your notes from Trans?"

"Here a go," Draco replied, handing James a rolled bundle of notes.

James unraveled the bundle and started the process of copying them into his notebook. He allowed himself to admire the elegant scrawl, looking at his own chicken scratch. He smiled slightly at the differences between the two.

"What are you writing on?" one of his year mates asked.

"It's a notebook. Way easier to store and keep up with than bundles of notes," James replied, not taking his eye off the notes he was copying, "I hate quills so I use pens."

Draco took on of the extra pens James had laying on the table. He pulled the lid off it and started writing on a spare piece of parchment that was lying on the table, "The inks inside it?"

"Yeah. You can even buy refills. It's more convenient than quills and inkwells. I knocked over about twenty inkwells before I even started school, so I just used pens," James replied, watching as Draco wrote with the pen.

"They are more convenient than a quill. And there's no inkblots," Draco seemed to be studying the pen closely.

James felt himself biting on the top of his pen lid as he studied the notes in front of him, his attention not on Draco anymore. He wrote a few more things before rolling the notes back up and playing them beside Draco.

The blonde was now using one of James's pens on the Potions assignment. James smiled before turning to his own potions assignment.

Rest of the night went quickly, the group helping one another with the assignments, and revising for the next day's classes. James caught himself smiling at Draco more times that he cared to count.

Soon the group headed to their dorms. James stripped and changed into some pajamas before moving to Draco's bed. The blonde held the blanket up for the dark-haired boy to get in.

James snuggled close to Draco, feeling himself falling asleep easily.


End file.
